


Volition

by thingswithwings



Category: MythBusters RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kinky Gen, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Robot Kink, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kari and Grant play their favourite game to decompress after a tough day in the lab.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Volition

**Author's Note:**

> This was written some years ago as part of a bigger project, but I've since realized that the project isn't gonna get done, so I might as well post the pieces. Enjoy!

They're trying to get this goddamn jackhammer boat finished before sunrise tomorrow, when they'll have to get up at the crack of dawn and get out to Alameda before they start losing the light. But at the rate they're going, they're not going to have to worry about getting up, because they'll never get to sleep. There's so much more to this build than they anticipated, and the shooting schedule for it is particularly unforgiving. The stress has made the shop tense. Kari has been cursing at her welding torch all night, and Grant has messed up the actuator twice already, and ten minutes ago Tory had thrown down his work gloves and declared that he needed some air before getting the hell out of the building.

So Kari and Grant are taking a break too, lying together on the cool shop floor, not touching but close to each other, friendly. Grant never really expected that he would be best friends with a funky art school chick ten years his junior, but that's how things have shaken out. 

"Just imagine," Kari says, beginning their game slowly. She pauses, watching him carefully, and when he nods she continues: "Just imagine you're a robot. No knots in your back, no eyestrain, no sore feet from standing on the shop floor all day." Grant takes a deep breath, then lets it out, trying to get his breathing to settle down into a slow, mechanical rhythm.

Now Kari rubs her hand along his forearm. "Feel how your body is simple, a simple machine made up of moving parts that work together perfectly." Grant can feel it, the way his arm becomes heavier, more purposeful, like any motion he made with it would be calculated, easy, effortless. The logical outcome of an electrical impulse.

Kari shuffles sideways a little and props Grant's head up against her legs, stroking his forehead. "Feel how your soft squishy brain is slowly being replaced by something better, something perfectly suited to the task you need to perform. How is your brain built, Grant?"

Grant sighs, not moving, letting himself feel the cool floor beneath him and Kari's warm fingers against his skin. "Hierarchical temporal memory," he breathes. Behind his eyes, the process of thinking doesn't become less complicated, but it begins to acquiesce to logical rules, to order: focused on the build they've been assigned to do.

"Right, and that memory is programmed with a simple set of functions." As she says it, Grant can feel it happening, clarity coming to him. Now the knots in his back really do start to relax; the headache that was throbbing painfully starts to feel distant, like he's separated from it.

"I require input," he says, smiling despite himself. His eyes are closed but he imagines Kari smiling back, smiling down at her creation.

"Go into safe mode," she says, and Grant breathes out a surprised puff of air and does, relaxes further into the floor, against her lap. "We're going to get rid of all the programs that were causing you to overclock."

Her hand rubbing soft against his other arm, now, and it changes too, becomes heavier, more solid, less permeable to the outside world. As he breathes the feeling spreads through him, trickling mechanically through his chest, his pelvis, creeping down his legs and changing the cells into electrons, the organs into processors.

"You're just a machine now," Kari says, her voice even softer. Like she's singing him a lullabye. "You're not a person. You have a function, and it's to get this build done and not kill any of your colleagues."

Grant chuckles. "I'm not an out of control killer robot?"

"Nope," Kari assures him. She's stroking his cheek, now, her fingers soft and human against his unyielding metal body. "You're the good kind."

"The kind without free will," Grant breathes.

He hears her shifting, and then her mouth is on his, gentle and easy, just a kiss from a friend. 

"Without a care in the world," she agrees.


End file.
